


Doctor Doctor

by Write0rDie



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fever, Friendship, Hospitals, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Examination, Mild Gore, Mystery, Pneumonia, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3805501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Write0rDie/pseuds/Write0rDie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara winds up in hospital and The Doctor just happens to be there, under cover as a Doctor. Is he there just to annoy her or is there really something sinister going on?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Dr Smith will be in to see you in a moment," the nurse said kindly, giving Clara a little pat on the shoulder. She pulled the curtain closed around Clara's bed as she left.

Clara sank back into the pillows and closed her eyes. She was absolutely exhausted after the events of the afternoon which now saw her lying in a sterile hospital bed, her face as pale as the starched white sheets. An IV line snaked up into her hand and she pulled the sheets up high to cover the unflattering NHS issue hospital gown.

She had endured poking, prodding and a chest x-ray before the final diagnosis was pronounced. Pneumonia they said, and a nasty bout too. She would be in hospital for days. This would not do. She had reports to write and places to be.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the curtain being pulled back. Dr Smith no doubt. Just what she needed; another one coming in to annoy her when all she wanted to do was sleep.

She heard the chart being picked up from the end of her bed followed by the annoying sound of a pen clicking rapidly like her students often did when they wanted to irritate her. The clicking ceased and she had the distinct feeling that this new doctor was staring at her. Clara reluctantly dragged her eyelids open.

"Dr John Smith at your service," he said giving her a wink. It was _The_ Doctor, _her_ doctor with a white coat over the top of his usual black suit.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in disbelief, sitting up onto her elbows.

"Can't I visit my friend in hospital?"

"Can't you visit like a _normal_ person without pretending to be a Doctor?" she said gesturing to his get-up.

"Ah, there's no fooling you is there Clara?" he said fondly as he discarded the chart at the foot of the bed and approached her. "And for the record, I'm not pretending to be anything. I cannot however speak for that so called Doctor who attended to you this afternoon though. His credentials are fake."

"What did you do to him?" she demanded.

"Nothing.. Dr. Malik is just taking a little nap in the broom closet."

She flopped back down onto the pillows, headache pounding. The shock of seeing him here had just about done her in. Clara covered her eyes with her free arm, her other one being occupied with the IV line that was still stinging at her wrist.

"How did you find me here?" she asked.

"I was at the school today. Courtney Woods told me you did a very impressive smurf impersonation this morning, before collapsing on the floor in front of the class."

" _Courtney_ told you?"

"Yes, Clara. I was at the school," he repeated slowly. "Today's Wednesday if you recall. I had the whole day planned out and now.." he gestured to her ailing form on the bed. "You're completely useless in this state."

She hadn't noticed when he entered but he had brought in a large bag with him. He plopped it on the bed and withdrew a pair of examination gloves and various pieces of medical equipment.

Clara's eyes widened. "What are you doing?" she asked, her face blanching whiter, if that were even possible. If she could retreat any further into the pillows, she would have.

"What does it look like?" he said as he snapped the gloves on, face completely deadpan. Her cheeks suddenly flushed pink. _Was that embarrassment or her fever kicking up a notch?_

"Dr. Malik has already.."

"Dr. Malik is an idiot," he said taking the stethoscope from around his neck and warming the cold metal chest piece with a couple of puffs of breath and a quick polish on his coat.

He noted her petrified expression as she clutched her gown around her. "Oh, come on Clara. You don't have anything I haven't seen before."

"That's not the point," she hissed, her voice taking an an edge of desperation. "You're not a real.."

She was suddenly silenced by a thermometer being placed in her open mouth mid-sentence.

"Shush," he said turning his attention to the state of her lungs. The Doctor gently hauled her into a sitting position and placed the chest piece of the stethoscope on her back.

"Breathe in," he ordered.

She complied reluctantly, silently fuming away.

"And out." The Doctor heard the unmistakable crackle and her breathing hitched as she tried to suppress a cough. He shifted the device lower and repeated his order.

She made an attempt to speak with the thermometer still in her mouth. "They already told me I have pneumonia. Why are you..?"

"Quiet."

She breathed in deeply and the rattle was even more apparent this time. Clara felt a tickle and could no longer suppress the cough that was building. The Doctor withdrew his hand and set the earpiece back around his neck. The thermometer twitched in her mouth as she coughed weakly, holding her sides.

He plucked it from her before she had the opportunity to spit it across the room or worse still, bite it in half.

After a few more wet coughs, Clara seemed to regain some control of her breathing so The Doctor looked at the reading from the thermometer and reached for the chart to make a note. 38.5°C and no doubt on the way up.

He reached into his bag and brought out a blood pressure meter, attaching the cuff to her upper arm before she could protest.

"Why don't you just use your sonic screwdriver?" she asked wincing as he inflated the cuff painfully around her arm. He noted the reading on the dial before releasing the pressure slightly.

"This is _far_ more interesting than the sonic." He tore the cuff off her arm before throwing it back into the bag. "It's almost medieval," he said with a minute trace of glee. There was more scribbling on the chart.

He turned his attention now to her lymph glands, gently palpating her neck in tiny circles. Her patience was wearing thin. The movement caused her to cough again and she turned her head away from him to cough into her clenched fist.

"Happy now?" she said darkly as he withdrew his hands from her neck.

He snapped the gloves off and lobbed them into a nearby bin. "No, I'm not happy Clara. You're very unwell and I have so many patients to see today."

"Other patients? You're seeing _other_ patients?"

"Oh, that's very telling," he said. "It may have escaped your notice on the way in here Clara, but this is a hospital, filled with hundreds of sick people. You are not the only person here you know."

"But you can't do this!" she said, her voice raising above the general noise in the neighbouring cubicles.

"Clara, keep your voice down. You'll wake the whole ward."

A nurse stuck her head in through the curtain. "Dr Smith. You're needed in Paediatrics."

"Paediatrics!?" said Clara incredulously.

"Yes, Clara. Children. Like you but only smaller and less petulant."

"This is bonkers!" she said as she collapsed into the pillows and covered her face with her hands, unable to deal with any more of his lunacy. Clara suddenly felt short of breath and every muscle in her body seemed to cry out at once.

"I'll be back later," he reassured her as he gathered his bag to leave.

"Doctor, wait!" she said grabbing him by the arm. "Is there something going on here in the hospital? Are there aliens?" _Am I safe?_

He paused for a moment. Clara looked genuinely terrified. It was one thing to fight aliens when you are fit and well and quite another when you're tethered to an IV, feverish and vulnerable.

"There's nothing going on Clara. Stop thinking and get some rest."

Clara let go of his arm, relaxing somewhat. Sleep did sound like a good idea. He shot her a playful grin as he left, pulling the curtain closed around her bed.

_Rule Number 1, The Doctor lies._


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor stood in the hallway of the busy hospital. He waited until no one was in sight before he pulled out his sonic to unlock the door to the nearby cleaning cupboard. He turned the handle quietly and pulled the door open. Dr Malik was lying on top of a pile of mop buckets asleep with his mouth open, just as he had left him.

Malik stirred as the light streamed in and he shielded his eyes. He squinted at The Doctor, recognising him immediately from their confrontation earlier that day.

"Hey, you!" he said attempting to get up, but he was pushed back down by The Doctor who stepped forward, pressing an index finger to his forehead.

Dr Malik collapsed unconscious onto the pile of mop buckets and cleaning supplies. A toilet roll fell from a shelf and rolled out into the hallway through The Doctors legs. He quickly gathered it up and threw it back in at Malik before slamming the door shut.

* * *

Two nurses sat at the Nurse's Station in Ward 1. They were going through piles of paperwork at the end of a long shift.

"Have you met that new Scottish Doctor?" said the Head Nurse. She was an older lady in her fifties with a face that suggested she'd been nursing for most of her life.

"Yes, I have. He's a bit.. odd," said the younger one.

"He's a silver fox is what he is," she replied in a whisper, nudging the younger nurse with her elbow. "If I wasn't a happily married woman.." she said shaking her head. They both giggled quietly as they filed their papers.

"He's actually quite abrupt. He told a patient today he'd be dead within the year for being fat."

The Head Nurse chuckled. "Well, he's not very P.C. but he's great with kids. I saw him using some kind of magic wand toy in Paediatrics. They loved it. And he managed to get young Henry to actually eat something."

Speak of the devil. Dr Smith approached. Despite the long shift, he looked as fresh as when he had started.

"Hello Doctor," said the Head Nurse looking up and he strode by.

"Hello Ladies," he replied giving them a friendly wink.

They held their laughter until he was out of earshot.

The Doctor entered Ward 1D and made a beeline for Clara's bed. He grabbed the chart and scanned it, casting a glance towards Clara who lay still and silent.

Her bloodless lips were parted slightly and she appeared to be deep in slumber, hair damp and splayed across the pillow. Clara's face was still deathly white but she now had a splash of redness across her cheeks. She was slowly simmering in her own juices.

The Doctor glanced at the vitals on the chart which had been dutifully tracked by the nurses. Her temperature had risen steadily over the hours since his initial visit.

The IV was drip feeding a cocktail of antibiotics and antipyretics into her bloodstream just as he had ordered, but her body's response to the drugs would not be instant.

He ran his fingers through her hair to get it off her damp forehead and reached for a wash cloth which had recently been pushed aside, leaving a wet patch on the pillow. He grabbed a couple of ice chips from a cup on the night stand and folded them into the cloth before placing it back on her forehead.

She was so comatose she didn't even move. He looked around to make sure he had indeed closed the curtain around her bed and that no one was watching.

The Doctor cupped her face with his free hand and stroked her cheek with his thumb as he let the cold cloth do its work. To his surprise she leaned into his touch slightly. He ceased his stroking.

"Clara?" he said gently. There was no answer.

Clara's phone buzzed on the night stand. It was Danny. The Doctor left the cloth on her head and picked the phone up. He ducked out into the hallway, leaving Clara to sleep peacefully.

"Yes," he said bluntly.

".. Clara?"

"Clara is indisposed."

"Oh, it's you." Danny sounded disappointed. "I heard she collapsed at the school. Is Clara alright?" he said, voice knotted with worry.

"Absolutely fine. I've got everything under control," The Doctor said impatiently.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Pneumonia," The Doctor replied bluntly.

There was a pause as Danny digested this new information. "Is it serious?"

"She'll live," he said. No thanks to you.

"Why are you answering her phone?" Danny said with a slight hint of jealously creeping into his voice.

"Because she's asleep you fool. I'm surprised you aren't here mopping her brow," he mocked lightly.

"I'm away at a conference."

"Oh, really?" The Doctor said in mock-surprise. "PE teachers have conferences do they?" he said sarcastically. "Refreshing your swimming certificate?"

"For the last time, it's Maths." Danny sighed into the phone. He was getting nowhere. "Will you just.. tell her I called?"

"Of course. Goodbye." He ended the call, slipping the phone into the pocket of his coat.

The Doctor returned to Clara's bedside. The cloth had slipped off again onto the pillow or perhaps Clara had pushed it away. He wasn't sure but her head was now turned towards him.

He took the cloth and wiped the dampness away from her neck and face. Clara stirred, her brows knitting together in obvious discomfort. She coughed weakly as The Doctor put the cloth back on her forehead and pressed it down firmly.

"Danny?" she whispered groggily, legs shifting restlessly under the blanket.

He rolled his eyes. "Guess again."

".. Doctor?" she said cracking her eyes open.

"Ten points to Gryffindor," he said patting her on the shoulder lightly.

Clara didn't acknowledge the joke. Her eyes were fixed in the ceiling, struggling to focus.

"There's something.. in the ceiling," she whispered her eyes rolling upwards.

The Doctor looked up. All he could see was white ceiling tiles.

Clara suddenly sat bolt upright, cloth sliding off her head. She gripped The Doctor's coat in panic, eyes wide and terrified.

"Quickly, it's coming!" she cried, fingers tightening on his coat.

"What's coming?"

"The TARDIS! We need to get to the TARDIS!" She pulled him down towards her by the collar of his white coat, with a strength that surprised him.

Her fever was sky high. He could feel the heat radiating off her as their faces were inches apart. He grabbed her hands pushed her back gently onto the mattress. The Doctor went to strip the heavy blanket back but she caught it and wouldn't let go.

"No, Clara. You're too hot," he said wrestling it out of her grip and pulling it down to the end of the bed, leaving her with just the sheet.

"Why thank you, Doctor," she purred drunkenly, sitting up to reach for him. She giggled like a loon.

He looked suitably repulsed. "That's quite enough, Clara." Not like this.

He didn't have the time or the patience to deal with the delirium any longer.

"Sorry," he said as he pressed his index finger into the middle of her forehead. Her head lolled as she fell asleep in a sitting position. He gave her a gentle nudge at the collarbone, sending her falling back into the pillows. "Actually, not sorry."

* * *

The Cleaner approached the supply cupboard. Her key didn't work initially so she tried again, jiggling the door handle in case that would help. She pulled it and suddenly the door knob, rose and spindle came straight out into her hand. 'Bloody hell', she thought. A call to maintenance would be needed and God knows they wouldn't get around to fixing it in a hurry.

She pulled the door open with her finger by the hole where the door knob used to be and switched the light on. The fluorescent tube flickered to life and she saw that the whole cupboard was in total disarray. Items from the shelf were either missing or scattered around. Her prized collection of mops were no longer standing at attention. They were now splayed at odd angles and one was even snapped in half.

"Christ Almighty," she breathed.

And what was that splattered on the walls? Had some chemical bottle exploded? She didn't have any red chemicals though. The smell hit her nose and she recoiled slightly. Working as a hospital cleaner had made her hard as nails and accustomed to cleaning up all manner of bodily fluids so she recognised the smell immediately. It was blood, and there was quite a lot of it.

Another foul substance hung in globs from the shelf ledge. It was also splattered on a broom handle and a blob of it suddenly fell from above, landing with a splat on the floor. It looked like the kind of frothy saliva that would be produced by a rather large, drooling dog.

She looked up slowly and realised that half the ceiling tiles were missing. The fluorescent light was hanging by the cable and it began to flicker and it swung lazily above her. An ID badge hung from the edge of the hole in the ceiling by the lanyard. She reached up and grabbed it. Malik, she read. It was Dr Malik.


	3. Chapter 3

Adrian the English Teacher from Coal Hill School entered Ward 1. He looked a bit lost as he searched for Clara's room. He had a large colourful bouquet in one hand and a plastic bag filled with papers in the other.

The Doctor came out of nowhere and skidded to a halt in front of him, blocking the doorway to Ward 1D with his arm.

"Adrian! So nice to see you!" he said warmly taking Adrian's hand and shaking it in a vigorous fashion. If he shook him any harder his bow-tie would probably fall off.

"Mr Smith?" Adrian said as he recognised The Doctor's face.

"Actually it's Dr Smith," he said pridefully pointing to his name badge.

"So.. you're a Doctor _and_ a Caretaker?"

"Jack of all trades you might say." He tugged at the lapels of his white coat. "Let me guess. You've come to visit Clara."

"Yes, I thought I'd just pop in before work."

"Such a thoughtful young man," he said sincerely. "These are lovely!" he gushed taking the bouquet and giving the blooms a sniff.

"Actually, they're from Mr Pink," he explained. "He asked me to bring some flowers on his behalf, seeing as he's away."

"She's been asking for you, you know," he said in a low and serious tone. It was of course a fabulous lie but The Doctor pulled it off wonderfully.

"Really? Why would Miss Oswald..?"

"All night, she was delirious and calling for you to come and comfort her."

"She was?" Adrian was genuinely puzzled.

" _Moaning.._ " The Doctor said, his face completely deadpan.

Adrian's face went white and he swallowed thickly. "I.. I should just drop these and go," he said gesturing to the flowers and the plastic bag. "Thought she might like to do some report cards when she's up to it," he said with a nervous smile.

Adrian moved to enter the ward but The Doctor blocked his path.

"Actually, now that I think of it, Clara's not feeling the best," he said solemnly. "There'll be no visitors today."

The Doctor took the bag out of his hand and held the bouquet in the crook on his arm. He spun Adrian around by the shoulder and walked with him towards the exit, hand gripping him with a little more force than necessary.

The Doctor dropped his voice to a low whisper. "Truth is, I wouldn't want her appearance to put you off at this delicate juncture of your relationship."

Adrian looked completely bewildered.

"I'll let her know you called," The Doctor said giving Adrian one final slap on the shoulder as he left.

* * *

The Doctor approached the cleaning cupboard where he'd left Malik. He was still carrying the bouquet and the bag in one hand. Oddly the area had been taped off and there was a forensics team hovering around. He saw a man in a hazmat suit sponging the walls.

The cleaning lady hovered a few feet away in obvious distress.

"What happened here?" he asked her.

She looked up, her eyes wide and red-rimmed. "Dr Malik exploded in the cupboard. There's nothing left of him." The Cleaner looked suddenly a bit nauseous and ran for the nearest bathroom.

When no one was watching The Doctor pulled out the sonic and scanned the area. Organic material. Human organic material. Dr Malik no doubt. There was something else present though. Saliva, and lots of it. Non-human.

Dr Malik hadn't exploded. He had been eaten.

If the spit was from the beast he thought it was, they would be in serious trouble. Fortunately, last night's meal would mean that it would be hiding somewhere in a food coma, not stalking victims through the ceiling. He estimated he had a bit of time before it would be hungry again. He had to formulate and execute a plan without alerting Clara. This would be tricky.

* * *

Clara was looking much improved when The Doctor entered. Her fever had broken and she was sitting up, picking away at what looked like a poor excuse for scrambled egg on toast. She was still very pale but her appetite was a promising sign that things were on the improve.

"That dashing young English Teacher came to see you this morning. And look at this lovely bouquet he left!" The Doctor laid it in her arms like a precious newborn. "I see PE hasn't sent anything," he said glancing around at the empty night stand.

"Danny's sending flowers this afternoon," she fibbed.

There was a note buried deep in the flowers and she pulled it out. My Dearest Clara, Wishing you a very swift recovery. All my love, Adrian.

"Doctor, this is your handwriting!" she said in exasperation.

"Is it?" he said in mock-surprise as he took the paper out of her hands to examine it. "What a coincidence! Looks just like mine."

She sighed heavily and plucked the note out of his hand, turning it over. "It's on hospital stationery. You wrote a fake note on hospital stationery!" She scrunched it up and threw it across the room.

"Okay, so the flowers may have been from Danny," he conceded. "But Adrian picked them out and Adrian brought them all the way here."

She shot him a dark look and propped the flowers up next to her on the bed. The Doctor reached under the bed and pulled out a large overnight bag. It was one that Clara had used on occasion for some of their longer trips.

"I took the liberty of popping to your flat to get your things." He pushed the meal tray away and dumped the bag down into her lap. Clara unzipped it cautiously and looked inside. Every bottle of perfume she owned was in the bag, along with _all_ her make up. It seemed The Doctor was incapable of subtlety.

The bag also contained toiletry essentials and a pile of clothes. There were a couple of comfortable t-shirts, shorts, and a pair of pyjamas. She saw a piece of red satin material hiding the corner and she pulled it out. It was a evening dress.

"Doctor, why would I need an evening dress in hospital?"

He sat down heavily on a nearby chair and chewed absently on a fingernail. "Well you might have a visit from a dashing young English Teacher tomorrow."

"You're insufferable," she said throwing the dress to the end of the bed in frustration.

Clara rummaged through the bag and pulled out a pair of underpants. "You went through _my_ knicker drawer?"

"I didn't look," he said with his hands up in surrender. "I just put my hand in and pulled out a handful like a lucky dip. I have absolutely no interest in your frilly things, Clara."

"How would you know they were frilly if you didn't look?" she said unamused.

He got up suddenly. "Gotta go. Places to be. People to fix."

"Doctor!"

"Go and have wash," he pleaded. "Use the perfume. Put on some make-up. You look a mess." He departed through the curtain, pulling it closed and leaving Clara on the bed, mouth agape.

* * *

The Doctor knocked on the door of the Maintenance Man's Office. In this instance, the word 'office' was used loosely. It was a dank room in the basement with visible utility pipes overhead and boxes stacked with all kind of obscure supplies.

He pulled out his psychic paper and waved it in front of the gentlemen who had answered the door. "Good morning. John Smith.."

"Occupational Health and Safety?" the man questioned looking at the paper. "We just had an inspection."

"Well you're having another," The Doctor said bluntly inviting himself in. "A man has just come to an unfortunate end in a cleaning cupboard, likely due to the improper storage of chemicals."

The Maintenance Man took a step back, not keen on The Doctor being in his personal space.

The Doctor tucked the psychic paper back into his coat pocket. "I'll need blueprints to the entire building."

* * *

It was after lunch when The Doctor returned to visit Clara. She had dozed off with the bed inclined. He was pleased to see that she had managed to shower and put on some of the clothes he had brought from her flat.

The Doctor dumped a pile of report cards at her feet. She jerked awake at the sound and looked up groggily.

"Doctor, are those report cards?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Yes. Adrian dropped them in this morning. I got a bit bored and did them."

"You wrote my reports!" She sat up fully.

"No one will notice," he said slightly irritated.

"Of course they will Doctor!"

"I read the other comments. I just summarised what the other teachers said," he explained waving at her dismissively.

She reached down and grabbed the first report off the top of the pile.

"Thomas is a rubbish student," she read in horror.

She grabbed another. "Alice is a Pudding Brain. Consider extra tutoring! Doctor! I'll have to re-do all these!" she said as a coughing fit overtook her.

"Now, Clara. Don't over-excite yourself." He took the reports off her and put them back onto the pile. He passed her a glass of water which she began to sip, a little too fast. The Doctor took the opportunity to take the pulse at her wrist while she wouldn't notice.

Clara finished drinking and wiped the water off her chin. The Doctor put the glass aside on the night stand.

"I think I'm supposed to ask you how you're feeling", he said still holding the pulse point in her wrist.

"Much better than yesterday, thank you."

"Glad to hear it." The Doctor dropped her wrist and pulled his medical bag up onto the bed. "The antibiotics are kicking in."

She looked at the bag and sighed. _Not this again._

He pulled out his stethoscope and fixed the earpieces to his ears. He didn't do her the courtesy of warming the chest piece this time before placing it on her back through her t-shirt. Perhaps he was in a hurry.

Clara breathed in deeply.

"You were out of your tiny mind last night," he said listening to the crackle in her lungs.

Mercifully, Clara didn't have much memory of the night before. She breathed out.

"I didn't say anything.. embarrassing did I?" she asked hesitantly.

He moved the chest piece down lower on her back. "No. Absolutely not."

There seemed to be a slight improvement to the congestion in her lungs. Suddenly there was a commotion outside the ward.

"Is there something going on out there?" she asked.

"Chemical spill. Best not go out there." He put his stethoscope away in the bag.

"Really? What kind of chemicals?"

"Hospital ones," he said as he scribbled on her chart.

"Doctor?" she said, her tone suspicious. "Is there something I should know about?"

"No." The Doctor put the chart down and approached her. "Now, lie down. Have a sleep. Take your medicine and if you're a good girl I'll bring you an extra serving of blue jelly."

Clara lay down obediently. The Doctor untangled her IV and gave her a pat on the arm before leaving.


	4. Chapter 4

The Doctor laid the hospital building plans out on a table in the tea room. He anchored the corners using a salt shaker, mug and a couple of biscuit tins.

He leaned heavily over the blue prints, scanning them carefully. The Beast would awaken at some point, and when it did he planned on knowing exactly where it was.

_Heat_. It would be somewhere in the building with plenty of heat and a lot of moisture. From what he'd read, a creature of this type enjoyed those conditions especially for sleeping.

He ran his hands down the plan, tracing the conduits with his long boney fingers.

_The Laundry_. It had to be in the Laundry.

His pager beeped. It was Paediatrics. He sighed. Duty Calls.

His job was becoming increasingly difficult to manage. He had responsibilities as a Doctor but more importantly he also had a hospital to save from an unwanted guest.

Paediatrics was on the way to the Laundry. 'I can do it', he thought as he rolled the plans up and slipped them under his arm.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Dr. Smith. We just haven't been able to get young Henry to eat again. We've tried everything." The nurse looked weary and exasperated.

The Doctor looked through the window into Henry's room. The small boy looked pale, lethargic and a little anxious. He was holding his beloved teddy and staring straight ahead blankly.

"Leave this with me."

* * *

"Now Henry," The Doctor said bringing out a plate from behind his back. "I want to show you something very special."

Henry was sitting up in bed in his dinosaur pyjamas looking a little apprehensive. He clutched his teddy harder as The Doctor came close.

"This is the planet Askerbon." The Doctor placed the plate on the food tray, right under Henry's nose. "Well, actually it's a scale model representing the outer crust."

The Doctor had cleverly sculpted a landscape entirely from mashed potato. Pieces of broccoli had been planted and there was a volcano in the middle which was leaking tomato sauce. Henry stared intently at the food.

"The dirt on Askerbon is completely white and the trees have green trunks," The Doctor explained pointing to the broccoli forest.

The child smiled for the first time all day. He had been feeling quite unwell. The Doctor's lips curled slightly just for a moment.

A crowd of nurses had gathered at the window to discreetly watch The Doctor weave his magic. He ignored them and continued his planetary tour.

"Now, Askerbon is full of deadly creatures," he growled dramatically. The Doctor sat down on the edge of the bed and withdrew a plastic bag from his coat pocket. "And the acid slugs are the _deadliest_ of them all."

The Doctor sprinkled a handful of worms onto the plate. They were real worms that had been hollowed out, fried and then injected with tomato sauce. They were crispy and transparent from the frying process so the sauce made them look swollen and blood-filled.

Henry's eyes went wide.

"Don't tell the nurses I've given you these. They'll be very cross," he whispered. "You'll have to eat them quickly before they see you!"

Henry seemed too afraid to try one so The Doctor picked one off, threw his head back and dropped the worm into his mouth. "Mmmm, tangy," he said thoughtfully as he chewed.

Henry picked one off the plate and bit it in half. His face lit up with delight as he realised it was just tomato sauce.

"Oh, this one's full of pus!" The Doctor said as he picked up a worm which had been filled with mayonnaise. "My favourite!"

Henry exploded into a fit of giggles as The Doctor dropped it in his mouth. The teddy was cast aside as he leaned closer to the plate.

"Would you like to try one?" The Doctor said holding another mayonnaise worm out in his hand.

"Yes please!" Henry was practically beaming.

The Doctor handed a 'pus' filled worm over and the child put it into his mouth. Henry had soon reached for the knife and fork and started excavating. The Doctor waited until the first mouthful of mash had gone in before attempting to make an exit.

"Well Henry, I'm going to leave you to eat your planet." He patted the boy on the shoulder as he got up. Henry speared a broccoli tree with his fork and shoved it into his gob.

The Doctor's work was done.

He exited Henry's room and shut the door quietly. The nurses gushed and clapped.

The Doctor shot them a quick grin before addressing the nurse he was speaking with earlier. "Keep his fluids up. Make him a smoothie and call it a snotshake or something. Be creative."

His pager beeped again.

* * *

"Good Evening Clara," he said pleasantly as he flung the curtain back. Clara was not in bed.

He spun around to see she was returning from the nearby bathroom dragging her IV stand with her. "You sound very happy Doctor. What have you been up to?" That suspicious tone was back as she eyed him closely.

"I just delivered twins," he said beaming. "They were terribly upset after being squeezed out like that, but we had a bit of a debrief and they're fine now."

"Doctor!"

"Relax, Clara. They'll be fine," he reassured her. "I told them it's all downhill from here."

Clara looked absolutely mortified.

These conversations with The Doctor, as a Doctor were becoming more and more surreal. She sincerely hoped to be discharged before he started performing surgery.

Clara pulled her IV stand back to the bed and sat down on the edge.

"Have you come to tuck me in Doctor?"

"No, I've come to give you your blue jelly, as promised." He held out the container towards her.

She reached out to take it but he pulled his hand back.

The Doctor dropped his gaze. "Have you been a good girl, Clara?"

She sighed in exasperation. "Don't be ridiculous, Doctor." Clara folded her arms and glared at him.

"Have you been poking your nose into things that are none of your business?" he said sternly.

"Just give me the jelly!" she said snatching it out of his hand.

The Doctor's pager beeped. "Gotta go," he said excusing himself.

* * *

After answering the emergency call, The Doctor finally headed down to the Laundry.

It was your typical industrial sized operation, with large chutes dumping soiled laundry into enormous bins on wheels. There were rows and rows of washing machines along one wall and dryers on the other. At this time of night, the laundry was deserted.

He pulled out his sonic to get a reading on any life forms in the vicinity. The Doctor held it out as he moved past benches stacked with freshly folded laundry. There was nothing. Not even a blip of life detected.

The Doctor continued down a corridor with utility pipes twisting overhead and on the walls. He entered another laundry room with much the same set up.

The sonic pulsed as it registered a living creature up ahead. The Doctor cautiously made his way along past a row of bins containing more soiled washing.

Right then he saw it; a large reptilian tail. It was hanging over the side of a bin filled with particularly putrid sheets. Thankfully it wasn't moving. The Beast was still deep in slumber.

The Doctor shut the sonic off and considered his next move. There was nothing for it. He had to wake it up and attempt to persuade it to leave the hospital. If it didn't, then..

"Wakey, wakey!" he said pulling some sheets out of the top of the bin.

The creature stirred, tail twitching slightly. The Doctor banged on the side of the bin with his fist and stood back a few feet.

The tail suddenly went ramrod straight. Under the sheets a pair of yellow eyes snapped open and then narrowed. There was a snort as its nostrils flared, much like a bull before it charges. It slowly rose out of the bin with a sheet over its head like a putrefied veil.

The Doctor took a step back. "Ah, you're a bit bigger than I thought," he said nervously.

The creature blinked and shook the sheet off its head. It looked somewhat like a cross between a lizard and a dragon with large scales all over its body like armour plating.

"You're a big boy!" he said.

The creature make another disgruntled snort.

"Sorry, big girl," he corrected himself.

The Beast tilted its head, yellow eyes blinking.

"I see you've made a nice meal of Dr Malik," The Doctor said spotting a shin bone on the floor that had been recently picked clean. It was covered with the same thick saliva he'd seen in the cleaning cupboard.

The creature sighed smugly and a blast of steam came out its nostrils.

"It's okay", The Doctor said with a shrug. "I didn't like him much anyway."

Suddenly there was a deep reptilian purr which echoed through the Laundry. The Beast was trying to communicate. It was hungry, again.

"You don't need to eat these people," The Doctor pleaded. "They're sickly and full of chemicals. Some of them are terribly constipated."

The Beast leaned forward in the bin and made a threatening noise as if to say, 'Are you volunteering?'

"No, no. _I'm_ not on the menu." The Doctor stepped back again and held the sonic out in front of him.

The creature made a low growl, insisting that The Doctor was indeed on the menu and he was now reserved as a starter.

"You don't want me," he said laughing. "Not enough meat. Barely a snack for someone like you!"

It was too late. The Beast liked the smell of The Doctor's flesh and she got out of the bin fully, raising to her full height. She tapped a claw on the tiled floor impatiently as her meal continued to try and negotiate.

Her tail whipped around, a little too close to be considered a friendly gesture.

"Okay, I've tried to reason with you," The Doctor said in the low tone. "But you leave me no choice."

The Doctor flicked the sonic on and sent out a pulse that had the Creature instantly twisting in agony on the floor. It was a high pitched sound, that only The Beast could hear. It would leave the creature paralysed temporarily.

The Doctor legged it out of the laundry. He had to get Clara out of the hospital and fast.


	5. Chapter 5

Clara woke to find The Doctor snapping on a pair of latex gloves at her bedside. "Doctor, what are you doing?" she said in confusion.

"Taking this out," he replied as he pulled up her pyjama sleeve. He started peeling back the tape which secured the IV cannula in place.

"Why?" Clara said as she tensed, holding her arm as the tape pulled painfully.

"You don't need it."

"Shouldn't the nurse do that?"

"Clara, I don't have time for an argument," he snapped as he peeled the last piece of tape back. He held a cotton swab over the injection site as he gently slid the cannula out of her vein. She winced as it stung on the way out.

Clara studied his face as he held the cotton swab in place with his finger and reached for a piece of tape. He seemed pre-occupied and in a rush. This was not same Doctor she had observed over the last couple of days who had bounced into her room, beaming every time he'd fixed someone. Something was definitely wrong.

"Well Clara, I think you're ready to go home," he said smoothing the tape down.

"What, right now? In the middle of the night?"

"I'm sure PE could pick you up," he said hoisting her up into a sitting position.

"He's not home until tomorrow." She watched The Doctor suspiciously as he put the used cannula into a nearby sharps box. "You're actually kicking me out?"

"No one's kicking you out Clara. I just thought you'd be keen to get out of here."

There was a sudden noise down the hallway.

"Doctor, what was that?"

"Ah, just the pipes." He snapped his gloves off and hurriedly grabbed her bag from under the bed.

"What's going on Doctor?" she said persistently. Clara was not about to let it drop.

"A very sick person needs your bed so if you could please just make it quick." He continued to throw her things into the bag carelessly.

"Doctor, I can't leave in my pyjamas."

"Of course you can", he said as he took her by the upper arm and swung her off the bed. "Chop, chop. Of you go."

"Can't you take me home?" she said wobbling slightly. She was still not feeling well and the sudden change in altitude had made her a bit woozy.

"I'm very busy, Clara. Also, not a taxi service."

"You have a _time machine_. Just drop me home and come back at the same time."

The Doctor didn't reply. He pulled the bag off the bed and grabbed her hand. She managed to step into her slippers before he practically dragged her out of the ward. He suddenly stopped outside at the Nurse's Station and took her by the shoulders.

"I want you to go to the TARDIS right now," he said in a low tone handing the bag over. Clara opened her mouth to speak but he raised his hand to cut her off. "Don't argue, Clara. Just do it."

The Head Nurse stood up at the Nurse's Station, having eavesdropped their conversation. "Is there a problem Dr Smith?"

"No problem," he said turning towards her briefly. "Go back to your gossiping." The nurse sat down reluctantly.

"I'm not stupid Doctor," Clara whispered, grabbing his arm. "I know something is going on. I asked around and.."

"The TARDIS is on this floor. Down the adjacent corridor next to the vending machine," he said pointing the way.

"Oi, you!" The Maintenance Man suddenly yelled down the hallway, a good fifteen feet away.

The Doctor turned to face him. "Can't stop Bob. In a bit of a hurry!" he yelled back.

"It's Bill," he said with irritation. He held out his hand to show he was carrying three small black devices with flashing green lights. "What the hell are these? I saw you plant them. They're all over the place!"

They were the Doctor's Chronodyne Generators; the ones that he had carefully set up in an elaborate network around the hospital to capture The Beast and fling it back from whence it came.

The Doctor looked mortified. His plan was unraveling thanks to another stupid pudding brain.

Suddenly there was a thumping sound overhead. The ceiling tiles buckled and shifted, sending dust and debris into the hallway. Bill looked upwards as the thing came closer. Suddenly the ceiling above him collapsed as The Beast lunged. In one swift movement the man was taken up with the Chronodyne Generators still gripped in his hand.

"Doctor?" a shaky voice said behind him. Clara was still standing there clutching her overnight bag.

"Why are you still here?" The Doctor said in exasperation. "Go, go, go!" he said shooing her in the direction of the TARDIS.

She took off down the adjacent corridor. The TARDIS was in sight, parked up next to a vending machine full of fizzy drinks. She could hear The Beast somewhere behind her in the ceiling. The Doctor activated the sonic and the creature suddenly twisted in agony and fell through the ceiling tiles onto the floor. It flailed around as if it were wounded.

Clara leapt into the TARDIS and quickly shut it behind her. There was an enormous thud and the TARDIS lurched violently as The Beast flicked its tail around into the door. Clara lost her balance and fell backwards as the cloister bell sounded in distress.

She struggled to get her breath. Somewhere in the commotion she'd lost her slippers and her bag was nowhere in sight. Clara heard The Doctor yelling some kind of order to whoever was unfortunate enough to still be in the hallway.

She wheezed as she tried to grab a lungful of air. Clara's ears started ringing. There was the sound of a roar and the TARDIS rocked again. "Doctor," she whispered as she she slipped away into darkness.

* * *

The TARDIS ceiling swam into view as Clara woke. She saw the time rotor rings turning slowly above her. Clara was wrapped up in a yellow tartan blanket like a sweet little grub, with her feet elevated on the jump seat, no doubt to get some blood back into her brain.

"You okay down there?" The Doctor said standing above her, still wearing his white coat. He tilted his head and eyed her closely. He seemed to be still in one piece so that was a good sign.

She made a move to sit up but The Doctor leaned down and stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Doctor, I'm fine," Clara huffed, turning her head away.

"I'll be the judge of that," he said as he crouched down beside her.

She turned back towards him. "Is that thing gone?"

"Yes," he sighed. "She's just had a one way journey back home. No idea how a creature like that would even get here in the first place."

He pulled his doctors bag into view. Clara rolled her eyes.

"You can clock off now Doctor. We're not in the hospital any more."

"Ah, technically we are. Just parked us on another floor, away from the mess." He put two fingers at the pulse point in her neck and looked intently at his watch to mark the time. "I still have paperwork to do. You've not been properly discharged."

Clara looked up at him and smiled lightly. He certainly was taking the job very seriously. The Doctor seemed to have relished the opportunity to carry out a normal human occupation or was it perhaps that he just liked caring for her? She wasn't sure.

"You liked being a real Doctor, didn't you?"

"Clara, I am a real Doctor. Glasgow University. Eighteen hundred and something. Can't remember exactly." His eyes stayed fixed on his watch.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously." He seemed satisfied with her pulse rate and dropped his hand from her neck. "It's nice to actually use the old credentials now and then," he said with a grin. "Although count yourself lucky we aren't in the eighteen hundreds."

"Why?"

He pulled out a thermometer from his bag. "Widespread use of leeches in medicine. Then there was the ridiculous treatment for so-called female hysteria."

"Doctor!" she said blushing.

He placed the thermometer into her mouth.

"Ah, the colour is coming back into your cheeks at last."

She blushed even darker, as she tried not to think of The Doctor attending to the needs of female patients in period costume.

"What's happened to your face? You're going all red. Stop it."

Clara regained her composure somewhat and her cheeks started going back more to their normal pallor.

He put the stethoscope in his ears and pulled the blanket open a little so that he could place the chest piece.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. After a few breaths he seemed satisfied and put the stethoscope back around his neck.

"Can you sit up?" he said as he plucked the thermometer from her mouth. The doctor glanced at the reading before putting it back into the bag.

Clara managed pull herself up. The Doctor slipped his arms under her and lifted her into the jump seat.

"You've lost weight. You were heavier the last time I carried you."

"Well hospital food wasn't exactly appetising," she said settling into the chair.

"Found your bag in the hall." He pushed it over with his foot. "Thought you might need those report cards."

"Ah, yes the ones I'll have to do again," she said dryly.

"They're perfectly fine, Clara."

"One of them is fine, Doctor," she clarified.

He cocked an eyebrow in surprise.

"The one you wrote for Courtney," she said, looking up at him fondly. "You said, 'Courtney is a bright girl who has promising leadership potential.'"

"Did I?" he said in mock-surprise as he turned away fiddle with a switch on the console, heat rising up the back of his neck.

"I think that's the nicest thing I've ever heard you say about anybody," she said warmly. When The Doctor didn't respond she changed the subject.

"So, Dr Malik wasn't a real Doctor then?"

There was an awkward pause as The Doctor toggled a switch. "No, Clara," he said darkly. "No, he wasn't."

* * *

The Doctor slipped into the staff locker room at the hospital. He heard the sound of a locker slamming shut nearby and a young male doctor turned to face him.

"Ah, you must be the new guy starting today, right?" he said, offering his hand.

".. Yes. Smith. John Smith," The Doctor said reaching out for a handshake.

"Welcome", he said with a smile. "I'm Dr Andrew Malik."

"Pleased to meet you."

"Just about to head home so I'll give you a quick run down if you like." He motioned for The Doctor to follow him out into the hallway. "Nothing too exciting," he said as they strolled towards the nurse's station. "A couple of diabetics, a concussion, two oldies with severe flu. Oh, and one nasty case of pneumonia in Ward 1D."

Malik took a clipboard from the desk and handed it to The Doctor. "A lovely young lady by the name of Oswald. Clara Oswald I think. A very attractive young girl," he said with a wink.

Dr Malik lowered his voice to a whisper. "I tell you, I'd like to put the colour back in her cheeks. Know what I mean?" he said with a sleazy grin as he elbowed The Doctor in the ribs.

The Doctor stared at him blankly. "No, I don't think I know."

"Oh, come on Smith! Surely you're a man of the world. I tell you, when she came in unconscious, it took me all my strength not to let my hands have a quick wander." He laughed again shamelessly.

Suddenly The Doctor understood what Malik was on about. He was making a lewd joke out of His Clara. The Doctor pinned Malik with a glare that could cut through a bank vault. It was a look that wiped the smile right off Malik's face.

"It was just a joke," he said nervously.

The Doctor wasn't laughing.

* * *

"He was rubbish," The Doctor said turning to face her.

"Not like you," she said smiling. There was that look in her eyes again, of fond admiration. Some might call it love. She stood up and approached him with the blanket pulled tightly around her. "You were a good Doctor. You _are_ a good Doctor," she corrected herself.

He turned away again to the console as a smile played at his lips. The Doctor pretended to rub at an invisible mark with his finger.

"Thank you for looking after me." Clara discarded the blanket and tackled him around the waist in an enthusiastic hug, resting her face on his back. She laughed into his coat as his posture instinctively stiffened.

"Clara, stop it - you're delirious."

"No, I'm not," she said with a giggle as she continued to hold him. "I'm perfectly well."

**Author's Note:**

> This has been edited slightly from the original at ff.net, but is essentially the same story.


End file.
